It's time you listened
by morning sunlight
Summary: Pastor Jim and John talk about John's relationship with his sons. Set after Sam phones his father in the episode 'Faith' so some spoilers for that episode,'Home' and 'Something Wicked'. Companion to 'You're Talking about my boys'.
1. First and Last

_**It's time you listened…

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**_

**_Disclaimer_**: _As usual nothing belongs to me – wishing it is don't make it so. _

_**Summary:** John and Pastor Jim talk about John's relationship with his sons. Set shortly after Sam's phone message to his father when Dean is ill in 'Faith'_

_**Rating:** some swearing (naughty John!)

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_**Author's note:** Thanks to Rae Artemis for her betaing expertise and for all her help with the 'pancakes'._

_**Author's note 2:** I don't dislike John but it may look that way. As we get nearer the end, his viewpoint will become clearer (and a lot less harsh! I hope!) **Please read and review **and let me know what you think. Chapter 2 is almost ready to go if people think this one works.

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_**Chapter 1 – First and Last**_

The door opened. 'John? This is a surprise. I hadn't expected to see you here,' surprise was an understatement; Pastor Jim was stunned to open his door and see John Winchester. Not that it hadn't happened before, countless times, it was just the timing of this particular visit. He remembered how it used to be that on seeing John, he would look immediately for the two young boys who would either be standing somewhere nearby, waiting quietly, too still for boys their age or at times curled in the back seat of the car, the younger asleep more often than not in the arms of the elder, who would be watching out warily. The boys were grown now, Jim missed seeing them.

'Come in. What brings you here?' he ushered the man on his doorstep through to sit in comfort.

'I was nearby. I just needed a bit of company, I've been on my own a while.'

'So I heard. Your boys are trying to find you. They need you, John, badly.'

'Don't. I don't want to hear that.'

'Well, I'm sorry John, but you're going to hear it. Dean's ill, probably dying from what Sam says. They need you.'

'They'll manage. If he … well, he won't… I'm sure… he wouldn't leave his brother like that.'

'Do you honestly think Dean has a choice? Sam needs your support to help Dean.'

'Dean will be fine, if he thinks his dying will leave Sam alone he'll fight harder. He won't leave Sam unprotected.'

Jim turned away. Old arguments that is what they were. He and John had been disagreeing on the boys since the first time John had brought the boys for refuge at Jim's. He understood John's desire for revenge, even if he didn't agree with it. The Bible said, 'Vengeance is the Lord's.' Jim believed it was right to hunt down and kill the evil, supernatural things that lurked in the corners of their world, he supported the network of hunters like John Winchester and Caleb, offering them guidance, a place to stay, help with research and whatever else he could, but they were adults, adults who had chosen to pursue this vocation. He had always believed John wrong to drag his children into the life in the way he had. His desire for revenge had cost his children their childhood and now it seemed quite possibly at least one of them their life.

_The first time he had met them as a family rather than just John, Dean had been about eight and Sammy about four. John had turned up late at night and asked for somewhere to stay. He'd been battered and bruised and too exhausted to drive any further. Dean had been silent, holding his brother's hand but using his body to shield him almost completely from view. Jim had taken them in without a qualm. He had cooked a meal for them, which John had eaten whilst talking about the just finished hunt not looking once at his sons. Jim had watched as Dean had made sure that Sam's food was chopped up, that Sam had eaten and that he had not made a mess as if worried that anger would follow from any mishaps. He had taken snatches of his own food in between looking after Sam, eyes flicking from his father to the Pastor. When they had all finished eating, it was Dean who had made to start clearing away until Jim had stopped him and he had sat down in silence again and returned to trying to keep his brother quiet and still, a job made easier by the fact that by that time Sam was barely awake. John still hadn't looked at the boys, so Jim had taken matters into his own hands saying that maybe the boys needed some sleep. Snapping back from his rant about the hunt, focus changed and John had agreed, returned to the car for a bag of clothes and wash kits for them. _

_Jim had led the boys upstairs to the guest room with its two twin beds, remembering the first conversation he had had with Dean, away from his father's intimidating presence, 'I'll bring a mattress through, there are only two beds, one of you will need to sleep on the floor.'_

'_It'll be okay. Sammy and I can share one bed, he'll be safe then.'_

'_You looked after your brother well downstairs.'_

'_That's what I'm supposed to do. I'm his brother.' A statement of fact softened by the smile he had given his brother who was watching, there was no question in the young boy's mind that his brother was his responsibility and that he wouldn't want it any other way._

_Jim had been astonished when John had walked in with the bag, dropped it on the floor and turned to leave the room again, turning at the door to say, 'Got everything you need, sport. You make sure you look after Sammy. I'll be up later' and with that had gone back down the stairs, not even waiting for a response from Dean. _

_Jim had stayed to help, not that Dean had needed any help, once he knew where the bathroom was, he had followed what was clearly a well-practised bedtime routine, before climbing into bed alongside his brother with a book from which he had begun to read aloud until his brother fell asleep. Jim had watched as the younger child had drifted to sleep soothed by his brother's voice and presence. Dean had stopped reading when he was asleep and put the book down and looked up at the Pastor. 'Sammy likes that story best.' Another statement of fact, softened by the way he ran his small fingers through his brother's hair._

'_And you read it well to him. Which story do you like?'_

'_I don't know.' There had been an unexpected edge to his voice then, panic that he didn't know what the expected answer was._

'_Hey, it's okay. Would you like me to read something for you?' _

_He had watched as Dean sadly shook his head, 'I think Dad wants to talk to you. I'm going to go to sleep now but thank you.'_

'_Okay. So in the morning, do you two boys like pancakes for breakfast?'_

_That had elicited a shy grin and a nod before Dean had snuggled down arm round his younger brother and closed his eyes._

'I know we've disagreed about the boys before John, but this might be your last chance to see him, make your peace before…'

'No peace to make, Dean will understand.'

'You sure about that? I heard about Lawrence, you're breaking that boy. Anyway, Sam won't forgive you, you do know that don't you? He is not Dean.'

'Talking to Missouri again, Jim. The two of you should fucking butt out.'

'Sam told me.'

'Like I said mind your own fucking business Jim.'

'And as I've said to you before, you want to stay, you keep a civil tongue in your head. Disagree all you like, but stay civil. I heard that Bobby had had enough of your attitude too. When he heard you and Dean were travelling separately, he told me to let Dean know he was welcome anytime, it's a shame because I've never had the chance. I didn't hear from him again.You left him to fight the battles alone.'

'He'd got his brother, he was fine.'

'But he didn't have his brother. You do realise he spent weeks trawling morgues looking at dead bodies in case one was yours. What do you think that did to him? If he phoned here once during that first month, he phoned every few days. I wish I'd spoken to Bobby earlier. But since then nothing. Why do you think that is John?'

'It was time he stood on his own two feet. Anyway he didn't even do that, he went and got Sam. The only good thing might be that now Sam is back in the hunt, he might be stronger.'

'_So Dean, pancakes. Isn't that what we agreed last night? What shall we put in them?' The elder of John's two boys had been up early with his brother and had brought him downstairs washed and dressed and the two had been out in the garden when Jim had found them. Dean had been showing the younger boy the bugs in the garden and making him laugh. _

'_Sammy likes blueberries,' he'd said with a smile._

'_Fine, blueberries for Sammy, come on help me pick some, they're over this side in the garden. What about you?'_

_Yet again, a confused look had passed over Dean's eyes, making him look his age, rather than the mature mini-adult he seemed most of the time._

'_You don't have to have the same as Sammy. Look here in the garden, we've got strawberries and raspberries and inside I have some bananas. I bet I could even find some choc chips if you'd like?'_

_He had smiled before quietly answering that he and Sammy would share a pancake and blueberries were good. _

'_Tomorrow we'll do your favourite then, how about that?' Jim thought how odd it was that this eight year old, could elicit such a protective streak in a man who had known him only a few hours, yet at the same time be almost invisible to his own father. The shy flashes of smile could warm a cynical heart. Hell, if it would stick around long enough it could melt the Arctic glaciers._

'John, let me ask you a question?'

'Jim, just leave it rest. I did what I thought was right.'

'Why do you make them suffer?'


	2. Maybe this time, we'll get somewhere

_**It's time you listened…

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**_

_**Disclaimer**_: _As usual nothing from 'Supernatural' belongs to me – wishing it is don't make it so. _

_**Summary:** John and Pastor Jim talk about John's relationship with his sons. Set shortly after Sam's phone message to his father when Dean is ill in 'Faith'

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_

_**Author's note:** Thanks to Rae Artemis for her betaing expertise and for pointing out the parts of this chapter that needed work – hopefully I've got it right now... Also continued thanks for help with the 'pancakes' - you're a star!_

_**Author's note 2:** Please read and review. Chapter 3 is still being written but hopefully won't be too long in the making.

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_**Chapter 2 – Maybe this time, we'll get somewhere**_

The following morning, Jim had risen early, taken some quiet time in the garden, before setting about his daily routine. He hadn't slept well; thoughts of John's boys in the hospital had invaded his thoughts.

He had a number of things to sort at the church after breakfast. He was tempted to make a call, find someone to cover his duties and to go and see Sam and Dean himself. Sam had left his cell number. He would call him at lunch time to see how they were holding up. He'd try again to talk to John, he'd pushed too far last night and they had parted on bad terms although John had still taken the spare room and he had had no answer to his question.

He walked back into the house and pottered round the kitchen for a few minutes before starting on pancakes for breakfast. The boys had always loved to pick the fruit from the garden to go with their pancakes. Sam's favourite had always remained as blueberry and it had taken years for him to accept Dean's explanation that blueberries didn't grow in Pastor Jim's garden all year round, sometimes it was not blueberry time. Dean had loved banana pancakes and as a special treat, Jim had sprinkled a decidedly unhealthy dose of choc chips in with them. He remembered when Sam had been a teenager on some sort of health kick and attempting to take his brother with him down this new path to enlightenment, the arguments that had ensued with Sam telling him he was going to be fat and die before long and Dean's laughing response about dying happy and enjoying his food before he went.

He looked down at the pancake mix he had prepared and the bananas and choc chips ready to go in. Enough for four. He reached for a tub and split the mix in half, it would do no good for John to see that he had made enough for the boys as if they were here like old times. He had already begun to cook when John made his first appearance, looking haggard and like he'd not slept too well either.

'John.' He said by way of greeting. 'Pancakes for breakfast, okay with you.'

'You always used to make pancakes for the boys.'

'Yeah, old habits die hard. I got distracted.'

'Mmm. Jim,' he cleared his throat, 'you know some things can't be explained that easily. There aren't the words.'

'For feelings and family, John, you should make the time to find the words. They deserve that much from you.' He had carried the pancakes to the table, setting a plate down infront of John before sitting down with his own.

'Banana and choc chip. Never had you down as a banana and choc chip kind of guy. Sammy always used to like blueberry best, Dean would eat what ever was going, but he always used to say you made the best pancakes after I'd left them with you for a few days. If this is what you made I'm not surprised, he'd eat anything unhealthy.'

'Banana and choc chip were Dean's favourite John, he ate what he was given and never complained but if you'd asked him, this was his favourite. Probably still is, if I know Dean. He had one hell of a sweet tooth.' Jim smiled at the memory.

'Probably got him where he is now. If he'd taken more care of his heart, he wouldn't have been injured on that job.'

'Do you know what actually happened? How Dean got hurt? Why he's dying?'

'Sam said he'd had a heart attack. I always told him he should look after himself, keep himself fit. He never did listen as well as he should.'

'John, is there anything good you can say about him? Because I get the feeling that we are talking about someone different. I always have. There's something you see when you look at Dean that the rest of the world doesn't. Why is that? What did he do wrong?'

'Dean knows he was supposed to look out for Sam. Look what happened to Jess, what do you think that will have done to Sam?'

'Apart from the fact that what happened to Jess was not Dean's fault, nor was it Dean's fault that Sam left for Stanford, this goes back further than that. You and Dean have been like this since I've known you. That boy has only ever sought your approval and has never felt good enough.'

'He was supposed to be a good soldier…'

'No he wasn't. I never knew your Mary, I know that, but Dean was supposed to be your son, your eldest, first born. He should have been treasured as Sam was.'

'Sam didn't deserve to have his mother die before he was old enough to have a memory of her.'

'And Dean didn't deserve to have his mother die when he could only just remember her, before he'd made it to school, he didn't deserve to have the life he barely knew ripped away and replaced with a lifetime of looking after a father and younger brother who forgot that he needed them every bit as much as they needed him to do things for them. He devoted everything to the two of you, his every waking minute.'

'No, he didn't. Not always. Not when it mattered.'

'The Shtriga, is that what this is about? Have you not forgiven a child for a moment of weakness after all these years? Have you never thought that what happened was as much your fault as his?'

'I expected him to look out for Sammy.'

'_Jim, I'm sorry it's so late. I need you to look after Sammy... the boys for me. I've got to get back before it gets away. Will you…?'_

'_Of course, John. Are they still in the car? Asleep?'_

'_Yeah. I'll go wake them.'_

'_No, wait. Can we lift them in without waking them?'_

'_I don't know, maybe. Wake Dean, he's in the back, he'll be too heavy. Sammy maybe. I'll bring Sammy in.'_

_Jim saw something he'd never seen before, Dean alone in the back, with Sam asleep next to the driver's seat up front. He'd opened the door and realised that Dean wasn't asleep but he had a strangely shuttered expression, head hanging but still seeming to watch his brother and his father. In the time it had taken to drop the boys off and head off again, John had not once looked at or spoken to Dean, not even the usual barked instructions about behaving, listening to Jim, looking after Sammy, nothing. Dean quieter than ever, had stood to the side, not daring to look up from the floor._

_John had left, but Dean hadn't relaxed; he'd remained standing like a silent sentry just inside the guest bedroom. Jim had been down to see John leave and to lock up behind him and when he returned, nothing in the room had changed. The only sign that Dean was even alive was his breathing and the regular blink of his eyes._

'_Dean?'_

'_Sir?'_

'_Come on, get ready for bed. You're shattered too.'_

'_No sir.'_

'_Dean. You know the rules in my house.' He'd never had to tell Dean off for anything before. Well, not really tell him off, there'd been a few instances of choice language, not really the boy's fault when you heard the mouth on his father, and one or two episodes of what might be referred to as high-jinks or pranks, but those had only occurred during longer stays when the boys had begun to relax. Things that had earned him a telling off but had actually warmed the pastor's heart to see him do things that boys his age should be doing._

'_Sorry. I can't.'_

'_Can't what Dean? What's the matter?'_

'_I need to watch Sammy. I didn't watch him close enough before. I was bad.' John's boy was crumbling before his eyes, something Jim had always known was a possibility but had never expected to witness. The fragility in the boy's demeanour was glaring._

'_Dean, it's okay. Sammy's fine. You're both okay here.'_

_Dean's eyes suddenly snapped away from Sammy and looked with a fierce intensity into Jim's 'I don't think he'll forgive me for what I did. I don't think… not ever…' the regret and sadness in his voice made Jim's heart ache._

'_What happened, Dean? Tell me about it.'_

'_Dad told me to look after Sammy and I didn't. I went out and Sammy nearly died and they'll both hate me now. I can't put it right. I don't know how…' the desperation edged his voice._

'_Dean, come and sit down by me and we'll talk about it.' he'd gently guided the boy to the other bed and sat him down. 'Take your shoes off and your jacket Dean.' If he could get enough layers off, he might be able to get Dean to relax enough to fall asleep._

'_I'm not good enough, Pastor Jim. I wanted to be but I'm not…' his eyes had been brimming with tears, tears that didn't fall. 'I'm not good enough, I don't deserve them.'_

'_Dean, you are good enough, but sometimes the tests God sends will be more than we can manage on our own and sometimes we make the wrong decisions and things go badly but it's what's in here that counts,' he'd pointed at the young boy's heart. 'In your heart is goodness.'_

_It had been the final straw and the boy's tears began to fall, silently as he'd shaken his head in denial of the last comment. 'Tell me, Dean, about what happened.'_

'_I left him to go play on a game machine and the thing came to get him. I didn't see it until I got back; it was trying to feed on Sammy. I got the gun that Dad had left ready but then Dad got back and he saved Sammy, like I should have done, like he shouldn't have needed saving. It was my fault. I was being selfish.'_

'_Where was your Dad?'_

'_Hunting. I was supposed to look after Sammy and call you if there was a problem.'_

'_Dean, when did your Dad go on the hunt?'_

'_Monday.'_

'_So your Dad was gone for three days?'_

'_I guess. But I know what to do, I knew what I was supposed to do. I was wrong. I shouldn't have left Sammy. I knew…,' the emotion in his voice was strangled as the child in him warred with the soldier his Dad had tried to make him._

'_Sssh, calm down. Breathe, that's right, in… and out…, in… and out…. Dean. You shouldn't have gone, but it wasn't your fault. What would have been different if you'd been there?'_

'_I could have protected Sammy. It's what I'm supposed to do. It's my job, my responsibility' _

'_No Dean. It's your father's responsibility to look out for both of you and sometimes he forgets that. '_

'_But I can do it, I know how, he's my brother,' Dean's voice had been desperate, clinging to the only thing he knew, the only measure of his own worth he knew. In the young boy's mind, his life was only valued in relation to how well he cared for his brother._

_The Pastor sighed, 'I know you can look after him, Dean. You do look after him really well. Ever since we first met, you've looked out for Sam, more than most boys your age would do for a younger brother. But that's not the point. The point is you shouldn't be looking out for your brother for three days. Your Dad should be looking after you both and if he can't, then he should be taking you to stay with someone else.'_

'_We don't need anyone else. I can do it; I need him to know I won't mess it up again. I'm sorry.'_

'_When your Dad left this time, did he tell you what he was hunting? Did he tell you how long he'd be gone? Did he tell you to stay in the room and not go out? Dean, have the two of you spent the three days in a motel room again?'_

_Dean only gave one answer and left Jim to decide which question it was the answer to 'Yes sir.'_

'_Dean, listen to me. I know you love your brother and I know you love your Dad, but sometimes, it's difficult for him to do the right thing for you and your brother…'_

'_That's why I should be better. Will you tell him when he gets back, Pastor Jim, please will you tell him, I'm sorry and I'll be better from now on? I won't let anything hurt Sam not ever, I'll always put Sammy first, I promise.'_

'_It's okay, Dean. Just lie down here,' as the boy scrambled to try and stand up to keep watch on his brother, warring with the exhaustion written in every line on his body, 'lie down, Dean, just rest for a little while. I'll stay and watch Sammy.' He had eased the exhausted child down onto the bed and pulled a cover over him, watching as Dean still tried to fight the beckoning sleep. He ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to ease the tension that was stopping Dean finally giving into sleep, 'Sssh. It'll be okay. Just sleep for now, just for a little while.' Finally, his breathing eased into sleep, although his body was still unnaturally tense. Jim made himself comfortable on the end of the bed, knowing that it was going to take all his skills to keep Dean resting, even if he wouldn't sleep._

Time and again, he'd, to put it politely, disagreed with John over how the boys should be cared for. They had had very heated discussions over whether the boys should be left for days at a time alone in a motel room. John always was adamant that they were fine, Jim always certain that they should be anywhere but not alone and not hunting. But they were John's boys and they were loyal if nothing else. They would follow their Dad to the end of the earth and back.

The problem was Jim knew that was why they were where they were now. He had made repeated offers to let the boys stay with him when John was hunting. John wouldn't have it. At times, he'd been almost tempted to call Children's Services himself to get the boys taken into protection but he wouldn't do it, not ever, it had never been an acceptable answer. He thought back to that conversation with Dean after the Shtriga incident and thought maybe he'd been wrong, maybe they would have been better off with a normal, loving family, maybe Dean wouldn't be dying now, but ifs, buts and maybes didn't cut mustard and it was too late to contemplate how life might have been different.

'John, for once, tell me the truth. It wasn't the Shtriga. The first time you brought the boys here, there was already something different in the way you treated Sam and the way you were with Dean.'

'Jim. It's in the past. It's best left there.'

'I don't believe that anymore. If it was behind you all and you'd moved on, fine, I'd go with dead and buried, but you're busy burying something that isn't dead yet and won't be until you deal with it. The problem is with your boys, they're so close now, hell they always have been, that you are the outsider. Even more so now, you won't get Sam back unless you sort out with Dean. If Dean dies, you lose them both for good and nothing will sort it out.'

'Sam understands the need for revenge. We'll find common ground from that.'

'You won't. Believe me. Sam might hunt for revenge, but he won't hunt with you if Dean's gone. And he won't stay for you. I don't even know if Dean could keep him hunting but they won't lose touch again, not now, they don't need you as much as they need each other. You are the one who is dispensable, John, you set out to make your boys self-reliant, strong and independent.'

'Dean was difficult… after Mary died…'

'What?'

'Dean, he was difficult, he wouldn't talk, he wouldn't be left alone, he cried himself to sleep, he asked for his mom in his sleep.'

'He was a child, little more than a baby himself. What did you expect?'

'I wanted time to grieve and instead I had a baby and Dean to look after. I wanted my wife, my home, my future…'

'Is that where all this anger comes from? Really?'

'Both boys were just so demanding, but Sammy couldn't help it, he was just a baby.'

'Dean couldn't help it. Think John, think back to the little boy you knew just before his mother died and then think about the little boy you had just after. They were the same child. Part of Dean died in the fire, another bit was damaged when his father couldn't bring himself to help him and another bit died when you stopped him being a child and made him be a parent to Sam.'

'I needed him to pull himself together so that we could move on. And once we did, he wouldn't go back. Not once has he ever been to his mother's grave. In all these years, not one fucking time… Didn't she mean anything to him?'


	3. The truth

___**It's time you listened...

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Disclaimer:** __As usual nothing from 'Supernatural' belongs to me – wishing it is don't make it so _

_**Summary:** John and Pastor Jim talk about John's relationship with his sons. Set shortly after Sam's phone message to his father when Dean is ill in 'Faith' **

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**_

_**Author's note:** Thanks to Rae Artemis for her betaing expertise and for pointing out the parts of this chapter that needed work – Fingers crossed it's okay now... and for the speed with which you betaed - Thank you!_

_**Author's note 2: Please read and review. What do you think? Does it end right?** _

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**Chapter 3 – The truth**

'Do you honestly believe that John? Do you honestly believe that Mary meant nothing to Dean?'

'I don't know anymore. It's years since he's even mentioned her to me. He's always refused to go back to Lawrence. Well, until he went back because Sam asked. He'd never go back for me.'

'Don't sound so petulant John. We'll talk about this properly. I can tell you why he would go back with Sam but not for you. He was a child, when you asked him to go back, a traumatised child and you were asking him to go back to where that trauma happened. At first, he was probably frightened that going back there, he would lose you or Sam as well. How well did you ever deal with his fears? You said before he used to cry himself to sleep, how long did that go on? Did you sit with him? Did you ever talk to him about what upset him and frightened him when he was still young?'

'I couldn't.'

'Why?'

'Can you imagine what it was like for me?'

'Tell me.'

Anger flared in John's voice as he began, 'My wife died. She left me with two boys to look after. She died because something I never knew existed took her and pinned her to the ceiling, slashed her stomach open and burnt her. And you ask me if I listened to Dean's fears at night? What about mine? What about the fact that no-one believed me? What about the fact that without Mary there was no-one to hold our family together? Time and distance have never filled the gap Mary's death left in my soul.' There was defeat in his voice. 'So go on then, you tell me why after years of denying me, Dean would go to Lawrence with Sam.'

'Because you told him he had to. You told him he had to keep Sam safe and to do that he would do anything. His wishes, hopes, fears all get kicked to the back of his mind when Sam needs something from him. He didn't want to go, but he couldn't say no to Sam.'

'Humph', he snorted by way of reply, disbelief evident.

'John, tell me about Dean.'

'Before she died? Dean was like her little shadow, he followed her everywhere, if not physically, he would watch her; he always knew where she was. He'd be playing in the garden and he would run into the house and go straight to her, even when she was in a different room to the one he'd left her in. They would sing constantly; nursery rhymes, children's songs, Christmas carols, songs from the radio, and jingles from the TV. They'd sing or they be laughing and talking constantly while she tidied up or cleaned or ironed and he'd go along with her picking up and helping kind of, or while they were in the kitchen. They used to bake together cookies and stuff you know, or when she was making dinner, sometimes he'd try and help, other times he'd sit at the table and colour or play with his toys or Sam once he was born. He watched Sam all the time. Dean and Mary, they were so close; he had all these bits of personality that were like hers. They would smile at the same things; they liked the same foods, songs and bedtime stories. When I read to him in bed at night, I could read anything, he never fussed but the two of them always shared the same three stories. His mannerisms were like her in so many ways, he wasn't girlie but he was gentle, he never liked to upset people.'

'He was a good boy.'

'Yeah, I suppose he was.'

'And after…?'

'He changed. Nothing was good enough for him. It didn't matter what I cooked he didn't want it, which book I picked up he wouldn't listen, what clothes I picked out he didn't want to wear them. He kept asking when Mary was coming back, just wouldn't except that she had gone. Then one day it changed, he changed.'

'How?'

'Do you know there are still days when I can't bear to look at him? He just exudes Mary from every pore, every fibre of his being. The way he turns his head, his eyes, not the flashy smile, but the slow one he turns to Sam, I suppose you would call it the genuine one. When his guard is down and he's ill or when he's looking after Sam, you can hear her in the way he speaks, the way he expresses concern and all of that was worse when he was younger.'

Jim waited; John was being brutally honest with him, with himself too. For what could possibly be the first time since Mary had died, he was recognising the truth about his relationship with his eldest son.

'It was like torture to watch him and he doesn't know he does it. When he changed, it just got worse. I told him that he had to be a good boy, that his mommy had gone and couldn't come back and that all she wanted was for him to be good and do everything he was told and look out for Sammy. I told him he wasn't allowed to ask for mommy anymore because she wouldn't come back to him no matter what, I told him he had to do everything she would have wanted to make Sammy happy and me proud.'

'I think that was when I drove the nail into the coffin of our relationship but once I'd done it there was no going back. He wiped his hands across his eyes, nodded and walked away from me and he was gone. He stopped speaking to me or any other adult for that matter unless it was to tell me what Sam needed but do you know what was the worst part about it, other people saw it happen, told me I needed to do something about it and I told them they were wrong, that I knew my own son and he was fine. It took me almost a year to realise that what they said was right and by then we were on the other side of the country and the boys had no-one else to speak to.' John dropped his head into his hands, elbows resting on the table in front of him.

'He stopped playing, he hated it when Sammy was out of his sight, hated being left alone, sometimes I think that is still what he fears the most, being alone. I would take the boys to the park and he would stand next to the stroller and watch the other children play. I started to train him because he wouldn't do anything, I made him run and climb because I thought maybe he would want to do those things again, I wouldn't let him hold Sam until he'd done what he'd been told. I thought maybe if he had to do things without Sam and me that he'd want to be apart, be like the other kids. It never worked. He always tackled everything he was ordered to do with a desperation that was so profound even I could feel it. He got quicker, better, more agile, more proficient not because he enjoyed it or wanted to do it but because the better he was the quicker I would let him back to be with Sam and me. I never intended it to be torture, I wanted him to be able to cope and I did it all wrong.'

Jim recognised the truth in the words. John had been a man lost in his own grief, alone with no-one to support him and his sons because they'd left behind their home and the people who had known them. He'd not known how to handle his own grief, let alone that of his young son, so he'd tried to handle it like a man, like a soldier, suck it up and get on. Every time he'd looked at the boy, he'd seen his wife and so he'd tried to rid his son of that but it hadn't worked because it wasn't just about looks, it was about the essence of Dean's being, and that had been moulded in the likeness of his mother's. In his heart, he cared for other people like his mother had done, he wanted others to be happy and protected and the more John had pushed him, the more he had retreated within himself building walls around himself, trying to hide what he was but leaving the chink, the weakness that was the need to protect his family until it became his only focus. Dean, in a bizarre way, had become his mother, his whole purpose in life to protect as his mother had done in both her life and her death. The more John tried to deny the Mary in him, the more it had shone through as the strongest part of him and the more it had hurt John.

'It all went so wrong. It was never meant to be like this. Mary would hate what happened to him. I can't look him in the eye and watch him die, knowing that it's my fault he's there.'

'John, you need to see the boys. You need to talk to them. You need to tell them that it doesn't matter who they are and what they want, you love them. You need to accept them. You should go to the hospital, help Sam look for a way through this, help him try to find a cure, help Dean fight it for as long as he can.'

'I found something, last night, it might help.'

'Go to them, tell them.'

'Maybe.'

'Go John today.' Jim paused, unsure how to continue, 'Do you want me to come with you?'

'No, I'll sort it out. I'll make sure they know what to do.'

'John, please. Don't get someone else to tell them. Let them know it's you looking out for them.'

'We'll see. I should go. Thanks for everything. I'll be in touch again. You know how to contact me if…'

'Think about what I said.' Jim watched as John picked up his bag and went back out to his truck. Maybe it would make a difference, John had been more honest than he'd ever known him to be before, maybe he would find a way to go to his boys now.

Jim tidied the plates into the sink and went to the church. He knelt to pray as he always did, and started with thoughts of Dean and Sam as he always did.


End file.
